I'll Protect You (Original Version)

Introducing Logan Cross, intellectually gifted and a prodigy agent

Logan

The bell rang. People exploded out of their seats. And, as usual, Logan recieved about fifteen requests to sit with people. 

He turned them down, one after another. Again, they all looked suddenly crushed, as if Logan had taken their spirit and turned it into ashes. He didn't mean to. Logan never sat with anyone else except for James, Josh, and Mark--or by himself. Plus, he was in an extremely bad mood.

Park Sparrow.

She took the prize for the most annoying. The Spring finals had been posted today. He had prayed that Sparrow would make it, not for any other reason than to keep this academy the most advanced and intelligent. She was the ink blot that was blotching out the perfect records. Every student had made it into the top one hundred at least twice. Park? Not even once.

How, and that was his only question, how on earth did Sparrow manage to survive this prestigious academy? She was late to school and class, her books always fall out of her backpack or locked away in her locker, and apparently she was always sleeping.

He wouldn't know for sure because he had the advanced classes and she took the normal ones. He had always wondered how she studied, and had been curious how a girl so rebellious like her was ever accepted into the academy.

Oh, right, his mother. She took pity on a supposedly "brilliant" mind, and gave her a one-of-a-kind scholarship, offered to the luckiest kid in the world. And Sparrow had taken the scholarship, stomped on it, and set it on fire.

He tried to tell his mother. She wouldn't listen. He told her that Sparrow wasn't worth a ruined record of high scores. His mother refused to even speak about. It was fishy how she always avoided any personal questions directed towards Sparrow. It was as if his mother actually liked Sparrow.

At that thought Logan made a sour face. Like her? Her hair obviously came out of a bottle. She wore too much make-up. She couldn't even put on her uniform right. 

"Dude, you look like you're pretty pissed," James said, spinning in his chair so he could face Logan. His posture was slouched and his tie was undone. Logan's demonic glare pierced him and James instantly stood up straighter.

Logan didn't like slouching.

He realized he was being a tad bit mean. "It's nothing," he sighed. "I just can't make it after school today."

"Seriously,? This is about the tenth time this month," James complained. He ran his fingers through his black hair and resumed slouching, completely forgetting that it was Logan's pet peeve. Logan ignored it.

"My dad came back." James was close enough to Logan to know that his father was always out and how rare it was for him to visit. However, James (and everyone else in the world) thought that Mr. Cross was out on business trips about trade and stocks.

Instead, Logan's father was on missions for XYZ--the company that enlisted highly trained agents for dangerous work. Logan was one of them.

Logan wasn't your normal smart boy in a high-class academy. By the age of three, he already knew how to juggle daggers. By eight years old, he read and finished math at the rate of tenth year in high school. He knew the quickest way to take apart a bomb--under pressure. He could tackle an S.W.A.T agent in a mere second if he was bored enough.

Logan trained at a very young age and grew up to be a prodigy in both academics and the agent life. By the time he turned eighteen, he will have been the youngest person to ever go on a mission without guardian supervision.

Now he had a new mission coming. His first one without other agents watching his back. This was his sole mission. And apparently, it was incredibly important. Logan's father had taken consistent breaks from work just to train Logan for this mission. He even learned a new language--Cimerian.